


behind [closed] doors

by hashire



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/M, It's leaning toward M but isn't quite there, Jean and Connie are mentioned briefly, Kissing, Making Out
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-12
Updated: 2019-06-12
Packaged: 2020-05-02 06:25:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19193524
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hashire/pseuds/hashire
Summary: In which Sasha visits after hours.





	behind [closed] doors

**Author's Note:**

> Hi yes I'm here to add some spice to this pure ship because that's what I do. The title is kind of weird but I think it's funny so I'm keeping it.

Grior leaves the kitchen without a word, as usual. He’s never been a friendly person, though Nicolo has noticed that he’s become increasingly cold in the past few months. They used to exchange something similar to pleasantries when they met in Marley and agonized together initially about being held prisoner. Now they spoke little.

Really, Nicolo has never minded working in silence. He did, however, recently feel the need to discuss the day's events, as lacking as they may have been. And maybe his voiced thoughts usually strayed to Sasha and things related to her...but it doesn't matter. Grior was never someone he considered a friend, even before they came to the island. 

He had, at least, kept his mouth shut about her tonight. He wouldn't say she was acting differently than normal. She just stood a bit closer to him that day, both prior to and following the meals, when she returned her dishes. When she kissed his cheek before leaving - because she's bold, so bold (though the only remaining people were her close-knit group of friends) - she lingered. She put her hand on his other cheek and stayed there for longer than normal. She was moving a little as she did so, but Nicolo was distracted. Connie and Jean were making odd motions while glaring: it wasn’t the first time it happened, he just couldn’t figure out what they were trying to communicate.

The moment was over when Sasha skipped away, cuffing Jean on the shoulder and putting Connie in a headlock, cheeks suspiciously pink as she did so. A struggle ensued, though Nicolo decided to return to the kitchen instead of watching.

Grior didn’t need to know about it. He probably didn’t even want to know about it. 

Nicolo realizes that he’s been staring at the dishes to be put away when he hears the door open. He has his back to it but it must be Grior, coming back to snap at him about curfew and being lazy and all of that. He busies himself with opening the cupboard door and lifting a stack of plates up, ready to brush off all snark that his not-so-willing partner has to offer.

Then two arms snake around his waist, a warm body pressing against his back shortly after. Nicolo goes stiff with shock and is ready to demand what Grior is on about when he hears the sigh: a soft, musical noise. “I thought he would never leave.”

The plates stay suspended in the air as he tries to process this turn of events. The moment extends long enough that Sasha withdraws. “Nicolo?”

He brings the plates down. “What are you doing here?” he says finally, turning his head to look at her over his shoulder. Her brow creases.

“Didn’t you read my note?” She takes a step back to allow him to partially turn. Then, before he can react or even think, she reaches behind him into his back pocket and plucks something out of it. “You...didn’t notice when I put it there?”

Nicolo isn’t sure how to tell her that he was too distracted by her other behavior (and the close proximity of her body) to realize what else she had been doing. It’s a small piece of paper, folded over once. It makes sense that he wouldn’t feel it in his pocket. “No,” he says finally, when Sasha’s face starts to morph into a confused and apprehensive expression. He turns fully toward her and reaches to take the note, but she moves it behind her back so he can’t grab it. “What are you doing?”

“Don’t worry about it. It’s not important now.” She gives him one of her bright smiles, eyes sparkling. “It’s just a...suggestion,” she continues, stepping back into his personal space and looking up at him through her eyelashes, “that we spend some time...alone.” The light in her eyes gives great effect to her words. The moment is broken when she wiggles her eyebrows at him.

He can’t help the sigh the huffs out; still, he smiles and puts his arms around her waist to draw her closer. “All right, we’re alone.” He intends to continue with something suave, perhaps. She cuts him off by putting her arms around his neck, rocking up on her toes, and kissing him.

It's not the first time they've kissed - not even close - yet he can't help but marvel at how sweet she tastes. The first time, Nicolo was flustered and ended up accusing her of stealing candy, his entire face a bright red. This somehow led to Sasha crying about everyone hiding things from her and him sneaking her a handful of candy and other sweet things from the Military Police's stash every day until he was caught. He didn’t even mind the punishment he received; the look on her face each time made it all worth it.

But this kiss is different: it's not quick and situated behind a closed door. There's time. A thought rattles at the back of his head, trying to remind him of something that he should be remembering. It stays banished from the forefront of his mind when Sasha presses closer and hums a happy noise into his mouth. 

When she pulls back, he tries to follow. She tips her head to the side so he kisses her cheek. He leans back to look at her, confused. She’s still smiling. She withdraws a hand to pinch his cheek between two knuckles. “You’re so cute,” she murmurs. “I can always feel your blush because your cheeks get so warm.”

Sasha teases him about this all the time, enough that he no longer responds to it. Instead, Nicolo reaches up to cup her cheek, drawing his thumb over the pink that also stains her face. It goes over the bridge of her nose, muting the freckles there but not completely covering them up. She leans into the hand, her eyes falling closed as he takes her in. It’s a nice feeling, warm and comfortable: like nothing else matters but this moment. He slides his hand around to hold the back of her head, inadvertently pulling some of her hair out of her ponytail. She wrinkles her nose and opens her eyes, about to complain but stopping. She must see something in his eyes: or maybe she can read his thoughts in that moment.

“Oh,” she says, a soft, almost curious noise. He doesn’t have time to parse its meaning or the emotion behind it because she kisses him again. She’s more insistent now, parting her lips and running her tongue along his bottom lip. He can tell she has little experience in the art of kissing, but she’s earnest and right now he _wants_.

Nicolo’s arms wrap around her waist, trying to pull her somehow closer. She’s so warm against his front, making little noises in her throat that intoxicate him as the kiss deepens. The edge of the counter bites into his lower back as he momentarily gets knocked off balance by her eagerness. Sasha giggles breathlessly and murmurs "Sorry" against his lips. 

Her hands fist in the material of his uniform as they kiss and kiss. Words bubble up in his throat as he breaks away to take a breath. He stifles them in her throat, reveling in the way she tilts her head back and makes a low noise that gets cut off. He pulls back to see her lip between her teeth, eyes shut, expression soft and content and tense at once. He makes a decision without thinking about it and uses his arms to lift her in the air. Her eyes fly open and she makes a noise that gets bitten off by her teeth sinking into her lip again.

“What are you -” she starts, looking at him with wide eyes, flushed cheeks, red, red lips. He turns them around and sets her on the counter with care. He presses their lips together before she can speak: but he can tell she doesn’t need an explanation. She lets go of his shoulders to grab handfuls of her skirt and tug it upward, parting her legs enough for him to press between them. She’s perched on the edge, wobbling a bit when she reaches for him. He brackets her waist with his hands, holding her steady and feeling the mix of softness in her sides and hardness of muscle under the pads of his thumbs. 

Sasha’s hand fists in his hair and tugs on it to pull him back. Nicolo again worries that he’s misread the moment and that she doesn’t want this, wants him to get away, but then - then she sinks her teeth into skin between his neck and shoulder. She growls into his skin, sounding like an animal. He squeezes and she gasps and - 

“Oh my fucking god,” Grior snaps, and they both freeze. “I should have known you weren’t sitting on your hands in here. Why did I volunteer to come back?” Nicolo looks over his shoulder to find Grior in the doorway, hand over his eyes. “Hurry up or finish up or whatever, I’m going to bed and I’m never covering for you again.” He storms off. 

“What’s he talking about?” Sasha asks, looking at him with curiosity and concern. He steps back and helps her to stand.

“Curfew. I knew I was forgetting something.”

“Oh.” The corners of her mouth turn down, her expression turning so sad that his stomach lurches. “I should probably get back, too.” She glances out the window: it’s still as dark as it was when she arrived. 

“Yeah,” he says. Neither of them move. He kisses her forehead. She tips her head up to catch his lips.

“I’ll see you tomorrow.” It’s a promise, one that they both know she’ll be able to keep. She smiles, bright once more, and disappears into the darkness of the hall.

The plates, he realizes, are still on the counter. He lifts them with shaking hands and almost drops them before giving up and leaving. He presses his hand to his still-warm face and can’t stop the smile that blossoms. Grior is going to be even more of an asshole now, he’s sure, but Nicolo can’t find it in himself to care at all.


End file.
